panic in the streets of riverdale
by beware of trips
Summary: Hal Cooper spends his 18th birthday hiding on a rusty swing set with only one person willing to pull the truth out of him.


Someone pulled Hal's headphones, along with a few strands of his hair, backwards off his head. He brushed the person's hand away.

"What're you listening to, Coop?" a familiar voice asked, walking around to his side. FP dropped down on the swing next to him, forcing a tired creak out of the swingset.

"The Smiths," Hal muttered. He went to put his headphones back on, but FP's smacked his hand. He clicked his Walkman off instead.

"How can you listen to that shit? All their stuff sounds so depressing. Even the stuff that's not."

Hal shrugged. After being dragged out of his home, he wasn't much in the mood for talking. Wasn't much in the mood for people, parties, birthdays, or anything else going on in Mary's home tonight.

"I like them."

"Right. Well what the fuck are you doing out here anyway?" FP stepped back and let himself swing forward. "Party's inside, you know."

"Oh, it's not a party," Hal said, sarcasm creeping into his voice. Mary had repeated that every time he'd looked towards the door. Just a bunch of friends hanging out, eating cake and barbecue potato chips, she'd insisted. Totally not a party.

"It's not really." FP extended something to Hal - a beer can. Hal shook his head but FP nudged it at him until he took it. He opened his varsity jacket and pulled another can out from the inside pocket and popped it open. FP probably wouldn't be able to see Hal's eye roll, but it was safer to not start anything. "For starters, real parties have kegs, not a single 30-rack. That's not going to last, especially not with you acting like this."

"I'm not even drinking."

"You're driving others to drink, I mean." Hal couldn't help it and rolled his eyes at that one. "Also, parties tend to have more than ten people."

He groaned. "There are ten people here now? I'm leaving."

"You're not going anywhere." FP took a sip from his can and nodded at Hal's. "Drink. It'll help."

"No." He tried handing the unopened can back to FP, but the other boy made no move to take it. "If I start drinking right now, I won't stop."

FP took another sip. "Sometimes you just need to get piss drunk and forget your troubles. Plus," he smirked at Hal, "you're way more fun when you're plastered."

"That's not true." Hal opened the can and cautiously took a sip. "I'm never fun."

"You said it, not me."

"I'm a big enough person to admit my flaws."

"Yeah?" FP gently kicked his feet off the ground so he could swing went back and forth a few feet. "Can you admit you're being a sappy little bitch right now? You big enough for that?"

Hal's free hand twitched over his Walkman. All he'd have to do was stick his headphones back on and drown out FP. He'd get bored and leave him alone eventually. Didn't he always? Instead, he shook his head and downed the rest of his beer, tossing the can to the ground when he was done. FP kicked it from his swing.

"Atta boy." He held out his own beer and Hal took it without recludance this time, gulping it down in one pull. "There we go." FP clapped his shoulder. "Lets go back in and get you another."

"Of course. That's why you're out here." Hal dropped the second can and kicked it himself. It fell somewhere in the depths of Mary's overgrown yard. "They sent you out here to come get me."

FP shook his head, looking straight ahead towards the house. "Nope. To be honest, I think everyone was relieved you left. You're being a downer."

"A downer." Hal kicked off the ground so his swing went a few feet off the ground, a little rougher than when FP did it. A horrible, rusty screech filled the backyard, covering up the soft music coming from the house some fifty feet away. "I thought I was a sappy bitch."

"Same difference." FP held on to chains on either side of his swing, twisting it back and forth until he was spinning. "You know, Coop," his voice dropped, hardly audible over the squeaking swing, "she'd be pissed if she could see you right now."

Hal stopped moving his legs until his swing slowly came to a halt. He fixed his eyes on the dirt patch underneath them - the place grass stopped growing after too many kids skidded their sneakers across before jumping off.

"No," he said softly. "No, she wouldn't be."

FP smacked Hal's arm. They both knew FP could have knocked him to the ground with one hand, but Hal recognized what he was doing. This half-hearted attempt to be kind.

"You're being a fucking pussy and Alice would rip you a new one if she was here." Hal kept his eyes focused on the ground. FP grabbed his arm hard and pulled until he looked up at him. "You hear me? She wouldn't be able to look at you right now."

Hal pulled his arm out of FP's grip. He let his feet hover a few inches off the ground and his swing turned this way and that until he straightened out again.

"If Alice was here, I wouldn't be like this, now would I? So saying Alice would be ashamed of me -"

"Well I'm ashamed of you then, okay?" FP sighed and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and lit one. He didn't offer one to Hal before shoving it back in his pocket with his lighter. "It's embarrassing, the way you're acting. Look. She's my friend too. It sucks she's not here right now. I get that. But you're being fucking pathetic. It's not the end of the world."

"You don't know Alice like I know her," Hal muttered. "I'm acting exactly the way she'd want me to act. She'd want me punishing myself. She'd eat this up."

FP exhaled. "You two are a real piece of work, you know that?" Hal shrugged, kicking some dirt off ground. His mom would tell him off tomorrow, asking how his sneakers could have possibly gotten so dirty just going to Mary's house.

"Hey." When he looked up, FP was looking his way, head leaning against the swing's chain. "What, uhh. What exactly are you punishing yourself for?"

Hal looked him in the eyes, gaging how loaded the question was. FP raised an eyebrow as he exhaled some smoke in his direction, but Hal couldn't read him. He shook his head softly.

"Nothing." He looked back down. "Nothing."

"Nothing he says." FP dropped his cigarette to the dirt and stomped it out. "You know, if you did something, or said something, and that's why Alice is - is no longer with us -"

Hal let out a harsh laugh. "She's not dead."

"Yeah, I know she's not fucking dead." FP twisted his swing back and forth again. "What I'm saying is, if you feel you had something to do with, with whatever happened to her. Maybe you should talk to someone about it."

"Like you? Yeah right," Hal scoffed. He ran his hands up and down the metal chains of the swing. It wasn't too cold for December, but the chains were icy against his hands. He squeezed them as hard as he could, feeling the metal slowly warm underneath his grip. "Alice isn't here to force us to talk. You don't need to do this."

"I'm doing this because there are bunch of people in that house right there who call themselves your friends, yet you're not talking to any of them. You're not telling anyone what's wrong, what happened to Alice, what you're thinking. Fuck, Coop. They're all afraid you're going to off yourself! Drive your car into Sweetwater River or jump out your bedroom window or some shit. Plus, just looking at you is depressing the fuck out of me. Hey." FP suddenly pulled one of his hand off the chain. "Stop that. What the fuck are you doing?"

Hal looked down at his hand, the imprint of the swing's chain clear as day across his palm. "I don't know."

"You don't know what you're doing?"

"No." He looked to FP. "I used to. I used to always know what I was doing, what I wanted. Now I don't know anything. All I know is I can't drive my car into Sweetwater River because my parents took my car away from me." He kicked his feet off the ground so his swing would slowly take him back and forth again. "So can everyone please stop saying I'm about to kill myself? Drowning sounds like a shitty way to die. So does throwing yourself out a window."

FP sucked his teeth and started swinging in step with him. "So you've thought about it then."

"No, I just -"

"Answered way too fast."

Hal shrugged. "You said it yourself. I'm a pussy. I wouldn't actually. I couldn't. But I'd be lying if I said I hadn't considered how easy it'd be to steal my mom's muscle relaxers and wash them down with a few pulls of my dad's good scotch. I could probably skip last period one day, rush home. They're never back from work until after 5 o'clock, so I'd have a good three hours. That'd be enough time, I guess. To get up the nerve to actually do it. To - to you know."

"Christ, Coop." FP picked up his jaw. "I was messing with you. I didn't think you'd actually thought about it that much. Fuck."

"I wouldn't," Hal said quickly. "I really wouldn't. Just thinking about it makes me sick. Plus, my parents would be so disappointed in me. More than they are now. Can't have them thinking I'm even more of a fuck up than I am."

"You're their golden child. I've never seen someone more proud of their unremarkable son than your mom."

"Things change."

"Like what?"

"Things."

"Things like Alice?"

Hal pursed his lips. His hands were digging back into the swing chains and he stopped himself, loosening his grip. "Sure. Things like Alice."

FP let out a long sigh and pulled out another cigarette. The wind blew out his lighter a few times before he could light it. "Where is she, Coop?"

Hal's voice was small. "I don't know."

"Bullshit."

"It's not bullshit," Hal spat. "If I knew where she was, trust me. I wouldn't be spending my Friday night - my goddamn birthday of all days - sitting in Mary's backyard with you, okay?" Hal leaned his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands. "I know you're this big hotshot and all. You think you know everything. But trust me, you have no idea what's going on. Those people inside might call themselves my friends, but none of them know. None."

"Not even -"

"No."

"Right." The wind blew some ash off of FP's cigarette. It was starting to feel like winter. "Coop?" Hal grunted at him. "What if I do know some stuff, huh?"

"You don't," Hal muttered into his hands. "You think you can trick me into telling you something and it's not going to work."

"Right. Of course. That sounds like me." FP took a long drag, rolling his cigarette a few times between his fingers. Now or never. "I heard you two fighting. At homecoming."

Hal's face rose slowly, his hands still cupped in front of him. Even in the dark, the color draining from his face was noticeable.

"No," Hal said softly. "You didn't."

FP stared down at the dirt. "I didn't hear it all, but I heard enough." He put his cigarette between his lips. "You kept using that tone with her that she hates. That 'you're being unreasonable, Alice' voice. And she just kept yelling and yelling. And next thing I know, you're yelling right back at her. I was just watching from backstage to make sure no fist were getting thrown."

"Oh, fuck you." Hal glared at him. "If you think I'd ever lay a finger on her -"

"Not you. I wanted to make sure she wasn't about to sock you in the jaw. That girl has a right hook like you wouldn't believe."

Hal shook his head. "No. No, I don't believe you. You didn't hear anything."

FP dropped his cigarette in the dirt and stomped it out with the toe of his boot, not breaking his eye contact. "So she's not pregnant?"

A large lump formed in Hal's throat that he couldn't swallow. He shook his head back and forth quickly. "I don't - no. No, of course she's not. Don't be ridiculous."

"Come on, Coop." FP reached out to touch his arm but Hal pulled back. "Come on. Just spill it. You'll feel better." Hal bit his lip. "Where is she?"

"I don't know," he whispered. "I really don't know. My parents, they won't tell me anything, okay? After we, we told our parents, my mom took her somewhere. That was it, you know? My parents foot the bill for this and her dad, I don't know. He doesn't kill me I guess." He licked his lips, tasting the blood he'd drawn from biting them too hard. "I have begged, screamed, cried, done everything I can. My parents won't even talk about her. I've been, I've been writing her letters. Every single week. Long ones. Apologizing. Planning our future. Asking her to forgive me. And nothing. My mom takes them and I don't hear a word back. I don't know if she's okay. If the, you know. If the baby is okay. Nothing. Fuck. I guess she really could be dead for all I know. Either that or she really wants nothing to do with me anymore. And who could blame her? Why should she ever speak to me again? I didn't want to have this baby with her. I told her she couldn't do it. God." Hal closed his eyes and let out a laugh. "I told her she couldn't handle being a mother. That she wasn't responsible enough. That she couldn't have this baby. What's wrong with me? What kind of person says something like that? I was supposed to, to I don't know. Ask her to marry me. Run away with her. She came to me thinking I'd want this or something and all I did was let her down. Disappoint her. I always disappoint her. I disappoint myself. I'm the one who fucked up and she's the one being punished. I don't deserve her. I don't deserve anything. I couldn't man up and take responsibility for what I did. I just let my parents whisk her away like she was some horrible mistake I made." He finally looked to FP. "She used to tell me that all the time, you know. That I'd get sick of her one day, fed up. What if that's what she thinks now? That I got her pregnant on purpose so my parents would send her away." Hal let out a long breath. "So yeah. Like I said. I don't know where she is."

"Christ." FP looked towards the house. "I didn't think you were going to tell me all of it at once. And all it took was a beer and a half. Maybe it's a good thing you didn't get piss drunk tonight."

Hal eyes widened as he looked up at him. "Do you think she hates me?"

FP bit the inside of his cheek. "No. Alice is passionate as fuck, but she doesn't hate without good reason."

"I got her pregnant and told her I didn't want to have a baby with her. That seems like great reason."

"It takes two to tango. My guess is it was both your faults."

Hal looked him up and down. "What would you have done if you were me? If you got someone pregnant?"

"Me?" FP swallowed. "I want to say I'd take responsibility. I really want to say that. But I have a feeling I'd be running for the hills if I were in your shoes."

"I hate myself. My parents hate me. God, the whole school would hate me if they knew. The whole town would."

"I don't hate you." Hal looked up hopefully. "She's one of my best friends and I still don't hate you. So cut it out, okay? Self-pity is a bad look on you."

Hal leaned his head against the swing chain, staring at the back door of the house. The taste of cheap beer still lingered on his tongue and another wouldn't be so bad. "Do you think she'll take me back?"

"Did she end it with you before she left?"

Hal shrugged. "She told me to fuck off once or twice."

"Yeah, well, that's just Alice's way of saying how's it hanging. That doesn't mean anything."

"But she never," he exhaled. "I guess she never told me it's over, no."

FP hit his hands against his knees. "So I guess there's still some hope then."

Hal met his eyes. "You don't really believe that."

"What I believe doesn't matter, okay? If there one thing in the world I know, it's that Alice Smith isn't happy unless she's taking people by surprise." FP hit his arm. "She loves you, okay? And trust me, I think falling for you surprised her more than it surprised anyone else."

"Right." Hal licked his lips, eyes darting to the house again. "Hey, could you get me another beer?"

"We could go in together." FP leapt off his swing. "It is your birthday party after all. Mary's brothers got Mortal Kombat on the Super Nintendo in the basement. I bet you could give Fred a run for his money."

"I'm too loose-lipped to be around all those people."

FP shoved his hands in his pocket, fingers running against the keys to the van. "We can go get a real drink somewhere."

Hal looked up at him. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." He clapped Hal on the shoulder and pulled him off the swing. "Just uh, just be cool, right?"

"No promises."

"And I swear, if you try playing The Smiths on the jukebox, I'll leave you there."

"We're not going to the Whyte Wyrm, are we?"

FP slung his arm around Hal's shoulders. "Just roll with it, okay? You only turn 18 once."


End file.
